


Regular

by byesweetheart (ConstantComment)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crushes, Flirting via pastries, High School, M/M, Melonpan, Pre-Slash, Study Date, Tanaka joins the Ennoshita fanclub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantComment/pseuds/byesweetheart
Summary: Things rarely eat at Tanaka. Unless he somehow makes someonecry—that one first-year that burst into tears when he tried to help her get to class,yikes—hardship and harsh words and, yeah, bad test scores roll off his back and who knows where they disappear to after that. He’s fairly unflappable if he does say so himself, even when he likes to kick things up a notchfor the drama. He’s like Buddha, you know? Well, probably not at all like Buddha, but like… he doesn’t lose sleep over the usual bumps in the road. That said, ifEnnoshitais involved, Tanaka is definitely less Buddha. Instead of rolling off his back, things sort of hit him in the shoulder and stick like gum, and you can’t just brush off gum.





	Regular

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing my fest with @kitcomverse’s prompt! My dear, I had to wiggle the prompt around a little since I picked TanaEnno (I know them best) of your choices, so it’s not _quite_ hurt/comfort and it’s not _quite_ in the aftermath of Aoba Johsai v. Karasuno, but technically it’s a little bit of both! :-/ I had fun writing Tanaka’s totally goofy POV, because he’s not always that self-aware. :P I hope you enjoy!

Things rarely eat at Tanaka. Unless he somehow makes someone _cry_ —that one first-year that burst into tears when he tried to help her get to class, _yikes_ —hardship and harsh words and, yeah, bad test scores roll off his back and who knows where they disappear to after that. He’s fairly unflappable if he does say so himself, even when he likes to kick things up a notch _for the drama_. He’s like Buddha, you know? Well, probably not at all like Buddha, but like… he doesn’t lose sleep over the usual bumps in the road.

That said, if Ennoshita is involved, Tanaka is definitely less Buddha. Instead of rolling off his back, things sort of hit him in the shoulder and stick like gum, and you can’t just brush off gum.

It’s always been that way, since the first day of volleyball club last year, when he and Noya were dicking around as bros do and Ennoshita grabbed them by the ruff of the neck. Well—he actually put his hands on their shoulder but, anyway. He told them to shut their traps and listen to the captain with the kindest, scariest voice Tanaka has ever heard, shutting them up instantly. And then after practice he introduced himself. Heh.

The thing is, the things Ennoshita says don’t make him angry, they just make him think. Tanaka actually _likes_ Ennoshita. Yeah, he’s not the best athlete on their team but he’s got his head in the game, he’s always watching closely and has this magical power where he can read people like a book, can spot their strengths and weaknesses and motivations in a millisecond. Noya named it something cool. What was it? Whatever.

He’s really friggin’ smart, and even when he’s _mean_ he’s doing it to keep Tanaka grounded.

Tanaka can appreciate that. Because Tanaka is super enlightened.

He’s so enlightened that he’s still thinking about something Ennoshita said after weeks have gone by, after games and excitement and stress and everything. Even as they gear up for the Spring High Prelims and Tanaka and Noya trudge through their remedial studies so they can pass their exams, Tanaka thinks about it.

It was a little before their match against Aoba Johsai, and they’d been changing in the clubroom when Tanaka mentioned how he’d like support from his schoolmates, maybe some attention from a girl to lift his spirits a little before they traveled to Tokyo. Well, he’d probably said it in a way that wasn’t as chill as all that, but it’s what he’d meant to say, and Ennoshita had…

He’d scoffed and told Tanaka he was only saying that because he was a _regular._

A regular on the team. Tanaka supposes that meant he is more noticed by girls and stuff? That… he has an ego…? As much glee as it gives him to think about how much girls maybe stare after him when he wears his all-black tracksuit on campus, or _if they’re on the court_ and girls come to cheer for him from the stands and scream when he makes an epic play—

Anyway, it was mostly Ennoshita’s tone that caught him off-guard that day. “You’re a _regular_ ,” he’d said, face scrunching a little to match his kinda sad eyes, and the conversation had died off after.

It eats at Tanaka to think maybe… people don’t notice Ennoshita. That no one wishes him luck. That people don’t see him or care? It’s weird to dwell on it, but Tanaka gets a little indignant at the idea whenever he’s reminded, especially after Ennoshita offers to help him study the second night in a row, when Kinoshita, Narita and Noya have plans with their families.

“Alright, alright, Tanaka-san,” Ennoshita says when they’re let out of practice, the air fresh and breezy compared to the sweaty closeness of the gym and clubroom (even _he_ notices at this point in the year). There’s a familiar note of kind exasperation (and underlying tyranny) in Ennoshita’s voice, as they leave campus and head to Tanaka’s place. “I’m going to personally ensure that you pass second-year, or else.”

Tanaka groans, but appreciates when Ennoshita’s palm lands on his shoulder and sticks there—like gum.

“Yeesh, you got that evil undertone _down._ Like—do you practice that?” Tanaka grumbles, and watches Ennoshita out of the corner of his eye.

“It comes naturally,” Ennoshita returns, grinning. His hair falls over his forehead out of his part, and it looks... kinda cool. “I need you with us when we go to Nationals,” he adds, and he squeezes Tanaka’s shoulder.

His hand rests there all the way to Tanaka’s house, even when they jostle around, and Tanaka teases lightly, and Ennoshita snorts at his bad jokes, tells him he’s ridiculous.

With textbooks scattered over the dining room table, they split their sodas—one orange and one lime—and mix them together over math equations and history chapters that drone on and on, and suddenly Tanaka kinda likes studying. Or maybe he just likes spending time with Ennoshita whether they study or not.

“I think I like history,” Tanaka muses eventually, with a belly full of pizza and occasional surprised laughter at Ennoshita’s dry jokes.

“What?” Ennoshita laughs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tanaka-san. We just covered last term’s major bullet-points.”

“Tch,” Tanaka says. “I give up.” He flops onto his back and snickers inwardly when Ennoshita throws dirty napkins at him until he erupts in laughter. He’s about to sit back up, but before he can, Ennoshita crawls around the side of the dining table and shoves at Tanaka until he’s sitting up against Ennoshita’s straining arms.

“C’mon, you slacker,” Ennoshita grunts as Tanaka goes completely limp, a deadweight weighing Ennoshita nearly to the tatami mat.

“Man, I’m _real sleepy,_ suddenly!”

Breath tickles at Tanaka’s ear as Ennoshita sighs loudly. “I’ll buy you melonpan tomorrow if you can memorize half my flashcards tonight.”

Tanaka sits up and ruffles Ennoshita’s hair—soft—and scoots back to the table. “If you insist,” he replies.

Ennoshita’s smile is good, as far as smiles go. It’s then that Tanaka realizes that maybe he’s one of those people, the ones who’ve never noticed Ennoshita before.

Anyway, Tanaka passes his exams.

And that’s despite his new distraction—because _now_ he notices Ennoshita more than is reasonable. But, he’s sorta fine with it.

Saeko takes him to a shrine the day before they leave for the Prelims. It’s nothing new to visit there, especially before big life events and _the Prelims are a big life event_ , but this time Tanaka pauses on their way out and stares at the rows and rows of omamori hanging on hooks and slotted into cubbies in the covered booth.

There is no rhyme or reason to it (none at all, okay), but he buys a katsumori that’s decorated with red, green and white accents like the volleyballs Karasuno practices with, and pockets it. Saeko raises her eyebrows and sucks loudly on her lollipop when he joins her in the car, but just turns the volume up on her punk music and guns it back onto the road into town.

“Ennoshita-san,” Tanaka calls out when he spots him in the parking lot the day they leave for the next stretch of their tournament. He adjusts his overnight bag and nods to Noya when he jerks his thumb at the bus, ready to save them a spot even if Tanaka’s being a weirdo and _waiting longer,_ postponing the excellence of a charter bus ride on their journey to Nationals. Everyone else who’s here already jostles to get on, but Tanaka waits.

Ennoshita, wearing full-black tracksuit and wet hair like he just jumped out of the shower, blinks at him and smiles one of those small smiles he’s so good at. “Morning,” he calls back.

Tanaka jogs over to him and takes a breath as he jiggles the charm in his sweatshirt pocket. “Would it be weird if I gave you something?” he asks, instead of the thing he may have rehearsed soaking in the bath last night.

Ennoshita snorts, shakes his hair out of his eyes, and a tiny spray of water droplets sprinkles his shoulders. “Depends on what it is, Tanaka-san.”

“Shut up. I just wanted to thank you for ‘personally ensuring I pass’ this year.”

“Oh,” Ennoshita says. His eyes are wide and curious. “You’re welcome. I would say it was no big deal, but—”

Tanaka groans. Bounces a little on his heels and pulls the success talisman from his sweatshirt. “Uh,” he begins again. “So I got you this for Prelims.”

Ennoshita stares down at it for a long moment, and Tanaka dies several times watching the guy’s cheeks go a little blotchy. Slowly, he holds his hand out, and Tanaka drops it in his palm and chews on his lip.

“I wanted you to know—also—that, uh,” Tanaka pauses when Ennoshita’s eyes flick to his, big and dark. “You’re a regular, okay? You’re a regular on _my_ team, and I wouldn’t be here without you. Karasuno wouldn’t, and I definitely friggin’ wouldn’t.”

Ennoshita looks back down at the katsumori and brushes his thumb over the fancy gold-threaded characters.

“So, uh, kick some ass, okay?”

Finally, Ennoshita laughs, a bubble of it breaking from his throat and popping whatever tension Tanaka was holding in his shoulders. “Okay,” he says simply.

Tanaka nods, and then pivots, practically sprinting to the bus.

He breathes deeply in his seat next to Noya, trying to reach his inner Buddha even though his heart won’t cooperate, when Ennoshita rushes past. Tanaka just barely catches his red cheeks as he zooms by, but then a small package falls into his lap and Ennoshita is gone, retreated to the back of the bus with Narita.

The package is a small pastry bag, with a single warm melonpan inside. Ignoring Noya’s confused questions, Tanaka pulls it out and notices a scrap of graph paper stuck to a bit of cookie dough. 

 _Let’s win Nationals. Study buddies next year?_ the note, blotted with butter, says in Ennoshita’s neat writing.

Tanaka goes absolutely, stupidly red, and eats his gift as the bus pulls out onto the road.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://byesweetheart.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/byesweetheart_)!


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